


Cry "Havoc", and Let Slip the Dogs of War

by SpaceShark



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Backstory, Origin Story
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-04-15
Updated: 2018-04-26
Packaged: 2019-04-23 11:19:01
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 5,777
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14331333
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SpaceShark/pseuds/SpaceShark
Summary: Four lost souls are transformed by Thanos into the Black Order - the Children of Thanos, the Horsemen of the Apocalypse.Origin stories for the four MCU members of the Black Order. In the comics their backstories and origins are barely touched (we don't even get the names of their species), so I thought these characters were perfect for an exercise in fanfic world expansion.





	1. Conquest - Corvus Glaive

**Author's Note:**

> First time writing writing for the MCU in a while. I've been on the Infinity War hype train for a while, and the Black Order caught my attention recently. It always amazed me how much detail Marvel put into the appearances Thanos' henchmen, so I thought I'd give them backstories as to how they ended up as Thanos' lieutenants. 
> 
> First up is Corvus Glaive, who like the first horseman is the main conqueror of the group, and their leader. Next up will be his brother Cull Obsidian/War. 
> 
> Title comes from Shakespeare's Julius Caesar.

_The Horsemen are drawing nearer_

_On leather steeds they ride_

_They've come to take your life_

_On through the dead of night_

_With the Four Horsemen ride_

_Or choose your fate and die_ \- Metallica,  _The Four Horsemen_

* * *

I watched as the Lamb opened the first of the seven seals. Then I heard one of the four living creatures say in a voice like thunder, "Come!" I looked, and there before me was a white horse! Its rider held a bow, and he was given a crown, and he rode out as a conqueror bent on conquest. - Revelation 6:1-2

* * *

 

War, fighting, conquest. It was all Corvus Glaive knew.

His first memory was his father being killed, killed to protect him from another clan of his Vampyr species looking to conquer the city his father was nominally ruler of. He and his mother had barely escaped with their lives, she being heavily pregnant with his brother at the time. A few loyal guards had given their lives for them to make it out to the wilderness of Estrora, a planet of many contrasts, with clean and orderly metropolitan areas or arid, unforgiving deserts.

Corvus and his family had been regulated to the largest of these deserts. The murderers of his father had not perused them, concluding the harsh terrain would kill them for them.

They were wrong. To their eventual regret.

Not that living in the desert was easy, by any means. His mother had departed the realm of the living barely after Corvus' tenth birthday. But by that age he was far advanced for his years, knowing several ways to kill a man with his bear hands, let along a weapon or two. He was definition of a survivor, one who had seen hell and decided that it wasn't as bad as originally expected. He lived, no, _thrived_ in his formulative years in that sandy background. Sheer willpower wouldn't allow anything else.

Once he had reached a time he considered himself ready, Corvus took his revenge. With his brother by his side, Corvus slaughtered the warlords and robber barons who had killed their father, leaving their bodies on city walls in various states of decay to send a message: _I am coming, and there is nothing you can do about it._

Only the last of the warlords offered any last words of note. Looking Corvus dead in the eye, he said with waspish venom, "You think you're any better than us? You think killing me will bring your father back to life?"

"No," replied Corvus coldly. "But killing you will be fun, like all the others." And with that, Corvus ripped out the eyes of the other Vampyr. 

After killing all of those who had wronged him and some more, Corvus became bored. He became a mercenary by trade, with the squabbling dukes and princes of the various Vampyr states paying him handsomely to take out their rivals. A pathetic lot, but their combined bounties made Corvus and his brother among the most powerful inhabitants of Estrora. He even took a few contracts on Vampyr colony worlds, spreading his infamy across the nearby areas of space in the galaxy.

But eventually, he got bored. Killing and fighting were fun and enjoyable, but he sought more.

He found his new challenge in the Glaive. Forged thousands of years ago by a Celestial, the Glaive was an object of near cult status in Estrora. Located in a shrine on the highest mountain on the planet, guarded by large, multi-headed lions, the Glaive was said to give the one who could master it immortality - as long as it remained intact, in one piece. Many ambitious souls had tried to obtain this weapon of legend for themselves, enough to create several piles of skeletons around the shrine's entrance.

Corvus accomplished the goal in a day. Sure, his hands were seeped in lion blood, his body bore countless scars, and his weapons would have to be either replaced or taken to a gunsmith.. But he now had the Glaive in his hands. And with it, he was now this planet's god. All who lived in it would be submissive to his will, or die.

The metal was a perfect fit in his hands. Wielding it was almost too easy. Like destiny had chosen him to be it's master. He found this out carving up a battalion of bodyguards sent by a powerful merchant who decided to revoke their latest contract with him.

But for the first time in his life, it was now to easy. Any Vampyr nobleman who saw the weapon in his hands would give anything Corvus requested of him. Land, power, riches, bedmates -all the worldly desires one could think of. For one who had been raised in desolation, it was quite exciting at first. It was all his to savor and own.

But Corvus became bored eventually. He could conquer the Vampyr civilization anytime he wanted to. His main concern was having to deal with the daily dealings of a pathetic and conceited race. The Vampyr princes and dukes were unruly and craven. They were also among the most plotting and backstabbing group Corvus had ever encountered in his life. And he had no intention of giving up how far he'd come in life.

So for a few years, he and his brother were content to rule over the richest three cities of the planet as their personal domain. The colony worlds, too - they gave him information about the rest of the galaxy. And information, no matter what price it came at, was priceless.

Such as, for instance, the information that a being known as the Mad Titan was making a beeline for his domain of space. Perhaps he'd heard of the one that had master the Glaive of the Celestials. Perhaps he was just insane. Or a typical tinpot dictator. 

Imagine his surprise, then, when Corvus found himself on one of the colony worlds, as wrecked and desolate as the desert of his childhood, facing off against an army of six-armed beasts and metallic Chitauri monsters all aimed at him. And with out any allies. Corvus was prepared to die fighting them all (and killing as many of them as possible) when a deep, authoritative voice commanded the armies to stop in their tracks. And when they stopped, they did so immediately. Not a hint of dissent or fear.

Corvus could see why. The figure commanding that voice towered over him. His golden armory and purple skin seemed to go hand in hand with his natural ability to command respect, fear, and authority. "I am Thanos. I want you to command my armies."

Corvus was taken aback by the bluntness of the request - or demand? It was hard to tell with Thanos, as he would discover later. "Why would I do that?"

"You possess many qualities worthy of the role I want you to play. You are clearly the most skilled fighter of your people, otherwise I would have never heard of your name. Yes, you are known over much of the galaxy, if you hadn't already realized it yet. You know how to command and how to force others to fear you. I'm afraid that is a skill I have yet to find in worthy candidates for my commanders."

"And my glaive."

"Yes, your weapon. Wielding the weapon of a Celestial is nothing to sneeze at, Vampyr. No, _mastering it._ I would have not made the trouble of bothering to visit your pathetic colonies if you were not the quality of fighter I wanted."

There was silence for a few seconds. Thanos wanted his next words to sink in.

"I know who you truly are, not just the warlord you are now. I realize that your voracious desires stem from the cruel conditions of your upbringing - you and your brother fighting others for limited supplies of food scraps in a land of nothing. But I understand. We are all shaped by our infantile desires, our longing for affection and attention, our fear of death. Our hunger for revenge against those who have wronged us, too. Judging by how far you have come, it's clear that you were unrivaled on Estrora and continue to be."

"Wh-What?" The revelation that Thanos knew about Corvus' childhood and more, and not that, being able to infer his inner wants and needs, truly shocked him to the core.

"Oh I know, Corvus of the Glaive. That's what they call you, on the planets in systems just next to your homeworld. Not that many of these planets have advanced civilizations anymore."

Another silence. Let it sink in.

"You don't want to rule this pathetic planet and it's pathetic lifeforms. You want conquest. The sheer glory of executing a war, relishing it with every body that drops from your blade. I can give you that relishing. I intend to make myself known throughout the universe, but one being can only do so much and I can only be in one place at one time. Well, until my final goals come to fruition. But until then, there are systems that need to fear who I am, and I need you for that. What say you? Join me, fight alongside me as we bend life as we know it to our will, or step aside as I do so after wiping out what you call your people."

Corvus weighed his options. It seemed an easy enough decision. Satisify his bloodlust with what was likely to be hundreds of worlds, or die for nothing. "I accept. But what of my homeworld? My brother?"

"Your brother will join us. I have use for... a being of his talents. But you must prove your loyalty to me. Your first task will be to raze Estrora. Burn it to the ground. Leave not one other Vampyr alive. And after that, you will do the same to the rest of the Vampyr colony worlds. If you are what I think you are, this shouldn't be a difficult task for you to accomplish in any form. Even mentally."

Corvus grinned with his sharp teeth, confirming Thanos' initial thoughts about recruiting him. "It won't."

Estrora burned. The Vampyr were reduced to under a thousand, scattered across the galaxy. But Thanos had gotten what he wanted: allies.

A general to lead the hordes of genetically engineered armies in his name, and a hulking brute among hulking brutes to spearhead every assault and orbital bombardment.

One species wasn't that big of a deal.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope the conversation between Corvus Glaive and Thanos is in character, for the most part. Let me know what you think


	2. War - Cull Obsidian

When the Lamb opened the second seal, I heard the second living creature say, "Come!" Then another horse came out, a fiery red one. Its rider was given power to take peace from the earth and to make men slay each other. To him was given a large sword. - Revelation 6:3-4

* * *

 

The loyalty of Corvus Glaive was not the only thing Thanos obtained that day.

The Vampyr race had two main subspecies. There were the "pure" Vampyr, which Corvus belonged to, and the "Orkanids". The Orkanid gene was naturally occurring, being a result of early Vampyr mating with a long lost Orkanid ancestor millions of years ago, but relatively rare. Larger than the purebreds and being more physically powerful, they were also cursed to not be as bright as their cousins. They also had a number of differentiating features, including yellow eyes, scaly dark orange skin, and a facial appearance that was not reptilian, militiaman, avian, but something else entirely. 

Cull Obsidian was one of these. 

His mother almost wept, as Orkanids were usually outcasts in society, doomed to menial labor or worse. And being exiled, his prospects were even more slim. But their mother had made them make a promise to her when they were old enough to speak: they would protect and defend one another, no matter what.

Where Corvus excelled in killing by guile and stealth, Cull Obsidian had raw, brute force that every Orkanid possessed. Only, he had that brute force even more than the average member of his subspecies. He killed for the first time at age six, robbing an unsuspecting militia patrol in the desert. Cull almost felt bad for the soldier, but quickly remembered that the soldier would do the same to him in opposite circumstances.

Never much of a planner, Cull left that to Corvus in most regards. When his elder brother told him of his great plan to wipe out their father's murderers, Cull had his doubts at first. "How?"

"How do you think? With our hands. Especially yours, given how they could crush skulls like nuts." He didn't say it, but Corvus had a tinge of contempt in his voice. He thought Cull would be easy to manipulate as he wished.

"Make it easier." Cull pointed to a name on a list of targets. "This one keeps others like me as slaves. I could incite a revolt among them, so that you could sneak in easier."

Not very articulate, but it seemed to work. "Very well, as you insist." They planned out the details later, but the core of the plan remained.

And it was executed brilliantly. Cull Obsidian, dull as he was, was still a step above most Orkanids. He was able to easily get them smashing everything in sight with a few carefully chosen words practiced in advance with Corvus. While the regular Vampyr guards were busy trying to reign in their unruly slaves (stunguns, plasma bullets, or both), Cull would take them down by surprise, and without mercy.

Cull Obsidian was a one man wrecking crew. Nothing could penetrate his skin, and his strength easily outmatched all. If Corvus Glaive was the pinnacle of the Vampyr race, Cull Obsidian was the epitome of the Orkanid subspecies. Together, they killed the bastards who had killed their father, taking turns torturing the pathetic souls before leaving what was left of their mutilated bodies to rot in places everyone could see, and know who was responsible.

Cull was always the one doing most of the heavy lifting, so to speak. He cleared a path of destruction wherever he went, Corvus following fast behind to mop up stragglers and reach the target quicker. Once, they'd argued over the death of one such target when Cull reached him first and crushed him in a blind fury.

Corvus was furious. He immediately dug his claws into Cull Obsidan's eyes, the only weak point he knew. "That was MY kill, not yours! Don't you dare to that again!"

"Get off me! You killed all the others! Don't you think I want revenge any less than you? Or are you too blind to see it yourself?"

Corvus would have argued some more, but another set of guards were on their way. Getting off his brother, he fired a set of atom splitting darts at some of the guards while Cull unleashed havoc on the rest, as if they were made of plasma putty - or something softer, like flesh and bones.

* * *

 

Later, once the guards were dead, the two of them dragged the body of the Mayor of the City of Terranov, one of the conspirators of their father's death, and put him in the largest watchtower to rot. Corvus said, "You shouldn't have killed him."

"You shouldn't have tried to gouge out my eyes. I want revenge as much as you do. But you can't do it alone."

Corvus went silent, thinking, thinking. He had no great love for his brother, but he was he the only person he could consider a friend - and ally. "Fine. The next one is yours."

"Thank you, brother. That's all I want. The feeling of vindication that you get with each kill."

"Are the grunts not good enough for that?"

"You and I both know they're just distractions. I want what you want."

Corvus realized that his brother was no hulking mass he could throw at enemies with ease and without care. It was a double edged sword - a smarter ally was one thing, but one that could think for itself... "Very well."

Cull Obsidian nodded, and went to arranging a few guard bodies he'd collected on the way to round out the warning to the townspeople.

* * *

 

And from that point on, they worked more as of a team than before. Cull Obsidian using his brute force and sheer strength to thin out the herd, Corvus using his battle tactics and swiftness on the ground to pick off the more important enemies. After taking turns killing the rest of their father's murderers (quite begrudgingly), the two then turned to mercenary work, carving a path of fear and bloodshed.

Before Corvus had obtained the Glaive, it was Cull Obsidian the planet of Estrora feared. Cull Obsidian, the Orkanid who lifted tanks as easily as a pebble from the river. Cull Obsidian, the one who knocked down the ancient walls of New Estrora's main city with his feet and fists along. He was given many nicknames: the bringer of War, the Black Dwarf, to name but two.

And yet, Cull always found himself thinking he was second best, forever doomed to be catching up to his brother. Corvus had the advantages of being the more ambitions of the two and being a purebred Vampyr. Orkanids were always seen as second class citizens on this forsaken planet, and being the second most powerful warlord didn't change any of that. 

The conquering of the Glaive didn't help matters at all. Corvus soon supplanted Cull Obsidian as the most feared being in the Vampyr sector. His fame grew to far outmatch that of the Black Dwarf. His life had seemed to hit a peak: to play second fiddle to Corvus Glaive.

Then: a chance to expand his lot in life.

The being known as Thanos, the Mad Titan, had secured Corvus' loyalty. After meeting him in person, Cull Obsidian could see way. Even though the two of them were physically about the same, Cull could easily see he was no match for the mutated Eternal. In a way, he almost sympathized with Thanos, as both were born with a gene that fate decided made them outcasts in their respective society.

But Thanos wasn't the kind of being to let fate dictate his life. He had goals. And very ambitious goals. Ruling entire systems was just the tip of the spear. He wanted more. Much, much more. And it just so happened that Corvus Glaive, the being selected by Thanos to serve as the right hand of God, had a brother with unbreakable skin and enormous strength.

It would have been foolish to say no.

Cull Obsidian aided Thanos in destroying Estrora with great pleasure. Like Corvus, he had no love for the planet or it's people, and even less so due to his Orkanid heritage. Though it pained him to have to euthanize so many of his own subspecies, he did his best to put them down quickly as possible. Serving Thanos was not for the weak willed or faint of heart.

For some time, the three of them were very efficient in controlling a vast empire that stretched over much of the known space. Corvus Glaive and Cull Obsidian served as generals and enforcers, extracting tribute (usually the most dangerous champions of a given planet) from cooperative worlds and laying to waste those that resisted. It was all in the life of balancing the Universe, as their new master put it.

From time to time, a previously unknown world was discovered. When one of them discovered a hidden planet, he would take the news to Thanos, who then consulted with them and his top Chitauri commanders on what to do. One of these planets was the homeworld of Proxima Midnight. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope this doesn't seem like a downgrade from Corvus' origin story. Cull Obisidian/Black Dward, imo, is the least interesting of the Black Order. In the comics, he's the brother of Corvus Glaive, but one wonders why they look so different. I decided to go with something similar to Thanos' own origin, as he carries a Deviant gene that makes him purple and big, unlike the rest of the Eternals of Titan.
> 
> By the way, did anyone else see that Infinity War clip on Good Morning America? Seems like they're nerfing down Corvus and Proxima a bit, probably to Gamora's level if I had to guess.


	3. Famine - Proxima Midnight

When the Lamb opened the third seal, I heard the third living creature say, "Come!" I looked, and there before me was a black horse! Its rider was holding a pair of scales in his hand. Then I heard what sounded like a voice among the four living creatures, saying, "A quart of wheat for a day's wages, and three quarts of barley for a day's wages, and do not damage the oil and the wine!" -Revelation 6:5-6

\---

The planet of Breiegantu was a lush, fertile world, inhabited by blue-grey skined humanoids living in a monarchical federation. Their planet was largely unknown to the outside galaxy, although members of their race, the Breiegans, would travel the nearby sectors. The current ruling family, the Midnight dynasty, had ruled the planet for over 300 years, presiding over a golden age.

Proxima Midnight was a member of this illustrious dynasty. Born the eldest child of her father, Coriolanus IV, she was heir upon birth. And given how her mother did not conceive again for some time, she was truly treated as such. Her father arranged for her to be educated to the best that a monarch's wealth could provide, being fluent in six languages by the age of three (on Breiegantu, living beings grow at a rate twice that of a normal Terrian, and live for a good 150 years without significant physical aging) and had begun using the ancestral spears that defined the Midnight family from it's early days as a unifier of Breiegantu. 

At the age of seven, Proxima began her brutal regimen to prepare her as a true warrior of her family and planet. The best combat instructors of Breiegantu were brought to the royal palace to train her in the martial arts of Toros Kai and Nangdrata from sunrise to sundown. Rests were few and the discipline was brutal. Most would have called it child abuse, but such was the fate of the heir to the Midnight.

She was also sent out with her father's scouts, learning as much about the universe as she could. She learned about species, solar systems, which planets to trade with and which to avoid. Isolated as Breiegantu was, Coriolanus IV would not have his child ignorant of what was around them. It was the only way to continue the policy of selective isolation that his great-grandfather had enacted to curb overpopulation and civil war.

But her life was still one of enforced meditation and constant aching. There was no rest for those destined for high callings, at least in the eyes of her father.

On one occasion, when Proxima was twelve, she and her most hated instructor, a Xandarian exile from the Nova Corps, were sparring with melee weapons. By now her preferred weapon of choice was a double edged spear nicknamed Starbright. the Xandarian was going at it with a single double edged sword, but clearly had the upper hand. And for every failed incursion, every time he might have drawn first blood, he brutally hit her in random locations. Proxima was getting used to it; it had only been a few years of training.

But now was different. He'd slashed her in the face, blood running down her cheek and lips.

And rushing throughout the rest of her body.

The whole incident sent her into a blind rage. Using all of her might and skills, she stormed the drill master, slowly forcing him into a corner with lightning precision. She then slashed him at the thighs, then the shoulder, and then the chest. Finally, with him bleeding out in a dozen different cuts, she stabbed Starbright straight into the man's heart, giving him a relatively quick death.

Pity. She wanted him to suffer. It was only fair for all the de facto torture he'd done to her.

Her father's guards readied their weapons, but Prince Coriolanus motioned for them to be at ease. "I must congratulate you, my daughter. You have passed your final test."

"You _wanted_ me to kill him?"

"I wanted to see what you would do when forced into a corner with no retreat, not way out. You'll need to master the art of fighting in desperate situations if you wish to rule this unruly planet we call home-"

Then, a messenger appeared, running himself to exasustion. "My lord, your wife. She's finally given birth to a son." Proxima's mother had been pregnant for some time.

Coriolanus immiediately left the arena with his guards, leaving Proxima to her own devices. It was odd how her father spoke to her. They'd both known her mother was expecting a son, and yet... he still talked to her as if she was the person he expected to succeed him.

Maybe she would be. The court astrologers predicted a lifetime of bad opens for the boy. All of them involved a duo of death bringers: a large, purple skinned man and a ghoulish being with sharp teeth and a weapon of legend.

Or at least that was what the soothsayers said. Proxima made her own luck, her own way in the world.

She'd learn that the hard way when her father passed a decade later and her brother, the future Coriolanus V, was about to have his coronation.

\---

The other nobles were in the process of passing around the Breiegan crown when the whining of spaceships was heard. Not just any spaceships, but large, anthropomorphically moving spaceships hosting dozens of alien invaders. Catching the meat of the elite of the Breiegan species off guard, they panicked to rally a response as thousands were slaughtered in the initial onslaught. 

Proxima's first instinct was to go find Starbright. As she found it in the underground armory, several of the invaders - now identified as Chitauri - stormed in, crashing the stairwell from the ground level. Expecting an easy prey, they were shocked to find themselves chopped in half or disemboweled within seconds.

Proxima fought her way though the invaders. Hack, slash, stab, repeat. She cared not for her brother, the nobles, or even any of her former instructors. Her only motive was self interest and survival. Find a spaceship, get off the doomed planet, find work as a mercenary somewhere else... it was a doable path, and not the worst calling as far as life options went.

However, once reaching the outskirts of the capital city, three ships got a hold of her. One was sleek and stylish, easily the command ship of whoever was leading the Chitauri. The others looked like small enforcers or scout ships, brought along as backup.

Once she'd made quick work of the scout ships, the command ship launched a dozen small fighter pods with Chitauri soldiers. She looked surrounded, and was ready to fight again the command ship landed and out came it's leader. He was an gaunt creature with a black robe, claws for hands and feet, and a blade as tall as him and intricately carved and decorated.

It was the ghoul from the prophecies.

A second alien commander came out not long after. Tall and brutish, this one had lava like skin and wielded a pair of small axes or knuckle weapons. He was not the purple being from the prophecy, but perhaps a second in command or main enforcer for the ghoul. The ghoul took a few steps and said to his troops, "This one is mine." They displayed the fiercest loyalty she'd ever seen. "So you are Proxima Midnight."

"And what are you?"

"Corvus Glaive. You will join our legions, one way or another. Easy way or hard way. Personally, I prefer the easy way."

He took a few steps... and nearly was impaled by Starbright. The bigger alien took up a defensive position, commanding several of the Chitauri to move in closer, weapons ready.

"I must say, Proxima, your beauty almost matches your very impressive skills with a blade." The two were now sparring at each other, unable to break the deadlock. "A pity you'll never be the ruler of this planet. You'd have been an improvement over your brother. He died a coward, by the way. Like an animal, begging and crying-"

Proxima charged. Not because she was angry over the death of her brother, but because Corvus had let his guard down for a brief moment - which was all she needed. Their blades clashed and she slashed his shoulder, drawing first blood. At Cull Obsidian's command, several of the Chitauri moved in, only to have their heads lopped off with one stroke.

Eventually, Corvus was forced to the ground, his glaive the only thing standing between him and the tip of Starbright. He first looked worried, but then smiled menacingly. Proxima looked up to see a fleet of bomber spacecraft destroy what was left of the Breiegan navy, torn asunder by blow after blow. Her response was to push harder with Starbright, but then Corvus said, "Behind you."

 Before she could react, Thanos had grasped her and threw her hard enough to knock her out. The last thought was of Corvus and his smile, crouching over her, with a limp. That damned smile.

\---

She had been moved, that much was certain. It was aboard a massive spaceship, one much larger than the invading forces had brought with them down to her planet. She could overhear some conversations about the destruction, how half the population would be left to fend for themselves in some "survival of the fittest" phrase.

When Proxima finally woke up, she found herself strapped to a chair of some kind, in a grey metal room that was circular and sterilized. At one side was a rack of various liquids and tools, neatly lined up and organized. At the other end, a pair of golden limbs. Armor of sorts. The left arm and right leg, to be specific. It was then she noticed that her left arm and right leg were very badly damaged. To the point where she would have cut them off to save herself.

It looked like Thanos and her had similar mindsets. 

Speaking of which, Thanos himself entered the room from the only door, behind her. Following him were two attendants, presumably assistants in whatever experiment he'd planned for her.

She didn't know his name at the time, but she knew she wasn't going to willing serve another. "I'll kill myself before whatever you plan to do to me."

The purple being was amused. Even laughed. "Those are your first words?" Then he motioned for his attendants to leave, giving him a metal rod that was similar to Starbright, but had a three pronged end. "I knew I made a good decision to spare your life. You proved yourself at great warrior, coming as close as any member of your race - or many races, for that matter - to slaying Corvus Glaive. Not that he can be killed easily."

"I stabbed him. In several spots."

"He's better now. But let's not focus on him, although you owe it to him your life. It was his recommendation you be brought here, for this." Thanos put down the spear, and picked up the golden arm. "It appears your body was massively damaged when I threw you around several times. Your organs are only functioning because my best surgeons allowed it to be. And your arm and leg... let's just say I can fix that too."

"I don't even know your name."

"Thanos. Your arm will need to be severed and replaced with a prosthetic I designed, one which will have this golden armor permanently attached to it. The same goes for your leg." He went to the rack and pulled out a giant buzzsaw. "Using this."

For the first time, Proxima's eyes showed the first glance of fear, glancing around for a sanctity that didn't exist.

"It does hurt," Thanos said, apparently knowing what she was thinking, as if she'd asked him directly. "It involves a number of amputations and injections, none of which are pleasant while happening during consciousness. But does the scientist not struggle and frustrate himself in the quest for higher knowledge? Do athletes not sprain and spasm their muscles to run, leap, and throw harder? If we are to perfect ourselves, must we not be expected to perform a sacrifice? You will sit in that chair and take whatever I do to you until you love it. The restraints are there to prevent yourself from inflicting self harm while the transformation is in process. But once it is complete, you will become something more, something greater - the embodiment of famine, the embodiment of hunger for glory, power, order."

And with that little monologue out of the way, Thanos called in his two attendants - Outriders, Proxima remembered now - to hold her down on both sides, for good measure.

And then the process began.

From an observation window, high up, Corvus Glaive and Cull Obsidian watched the spectacle with immense pleasure.

\---

Proxima Midnight was reborn.

Her two damaged limbs were amputated and refitted with biologically grown duplicates, with armor and mechanisms sourced from the finest technicians in the galaxy. The new limbs were designed to never tire, and support someone in combat situations for days on end. 

The new spear, Starbright II, was redesigned and created by Thanos himself. Created from the energy of Breiegantu's star, which thanks to the invasion was now trapped in a quantum singularity, Starbright II was a tool that could bring down giants. If thrown, it could become a mass of massive energy few could withstand. The three prongs were dipped in three different venoms, collected from the corners of the galaxy. Together, they could kill most within seconds. It was the perfect weapon for someone who'd trained with spears all their life and lived and breathed the weapon.

But Proxima's body and weapon were not the only things altered. Though she was never told, her mind had also been altered. Any resemblance of resistance to Thanos and his mission had been wiped clean. Replacing it were an insatiable bloodlust, deity like devotion to her new master, and an enhanced competitive nature whenever she took the battlefield again. She now lived only to fight, for Thanos.

How she came to love Corvus Glaive... that is another story.

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Doing notes here since Ao3 acts up sometimes when I try to put them in the notes box. 

I got the idea for Proxima's backstory from two main sources: Arya Stark's journey in Game of Thrones, and Thanos being a scientist at first, albeit one that would kidnap and dissect dozens of innocents, including his own deranged mother. The gold armor she wears in random areas seemed kind of odd to me, so I thought incorporating them into the backstory might be interesting.

Last but not least will be Ebony Maw. I'll probably have his backstory up in a week or so, after I see Infinity War.


End file.
